


Cooked Cream for Oliver and Me

by bloomblood



Category: Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bottom Elio Perlman, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Elio Perlman, Second Time, Showers, Top Oliver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-06-28 08:24:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19808464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloomblood/pseuds/bloomblood
Summary: Elio and Oliver share soft things, such as dessert and that sensitive spot between the cheeks.





	Cooked Cream for Oliver and Me

**Author's Note:**

> _This fic has been backdated to match its original publication date[on tumblr](https://bloomblood.tumblr.com/post/185762053850/cooked-cream-for-oliver-and-me)._

Mafalda brought out _cooked cream_ for Oliver and me. We were alone at the villa, wanting something sweet and cold for the evening. She’d made it thick, with sauce spilt over the mold and the slices of peaches. I knew what Oliver was thinking, that we had to be thinking the same about just earlier, my cum in the fruit, and the fruit and my cum in his mouth. He’d made me cry. I wanted to cry now, being beside him, feeling sore still from last night—feeling awkward still. But we’d made up, and as I said, we were alone, with my parents gone until morning.

We ate greedily and quietly. Oliver was older than me only in age tonight, acting just as silly as I was, like how I slurped up a peach, how I got sticky and slippery on my mouth from the cream, _panna cotta_ on my bare chin, my chest. I didn’t wear a shirt because we just came from the pool. I never wanted to cover myself around Oliver.

Mafalda checked on us twice and that made me pink because _does she know_? It wasn’t just that the peach thing happened so few hours ago, and that this dessert of the same fruit and the likeness of my orgasm were presented in glass dishes for us to suck, but that she looked at us with tenderness, us _boys_ —or one boy and one man—whom she was sure to have heard having sex.

Oliver and I crept upstairs, for some reason being quiet, like we had a reason to be quiet, to hide, and we went in our bathroom. He looked at me, so small here, unlike him in experience with this thing. He shut the door. He shut us in with each other and we tasted like what I’d done with the peach and it made me _scream_ in my head.

 _Why did I_ do _that?_

“Come here,” Oliver said.

I went. It wasn’t far to go, just a step before I was there in the almost-dark, staring up.

“Are you really okay?”

I nodded. I felt how tender I must have looked to him, how dewy my eyes were, and then he was touching me.

I yielded to his hands around my neck and was enchanted. His lips were at my forehead, sticking between my eyebrows, very paternal, very sensual, very _Elio_. He was Elio now, and I was Oliver, and he was kissing around my eye, down my face.

“Tonight?” he asked. “Again?”

“Yes, please.”

My voice was soapy. I felt like I might drip between his hands onto the floor.

It was some time after him asking me that intimate thing and him getting my trunks off that we found ourselves in the bathtub together. He had me in front of him, my back to the plumbing. Behind me, the water was heating up.

I loved his mouth.

He kissed me everywhere sometimes, on all spots but my lips, and I knew now, after last night, that he was just like that. He wanted to take his time. He was romantic. We were much the same, him more Elio than me, me more Oliver than Oliver, so much that it hurt me. How could I let myself leave me here alone when time to part?

I sucked in air between my teeth and looked up, watching the ceiling. There was so much darkness now and so much water that I didn’t care what I seemed like. But then he licked right where I cried and it broke me.

“Hold open your cheeks,” he said. I could tell by his voice that this affected him, getting to have me here with the house empty but for Mafalda, just a day after he’d pinned me in his bed, which was my bed, pressing against my back, entering.

I did what he said, though I was flustered now. The tears were still in my eyes and trailed to my jaw, but a thrill was blooming, burgeoning, inside my chest. It leaked to my limbs, trickling down to where I was hard against him. That I was hard against him made me shy.

He disconnected the handheld showerhead and aimed it where I was spread apart and soft. The initial shock of heat sent me up on my toes. We laughed—me at myself and him, fondly, at me.

I settled into it. “That’s it,” I heard him say, encouraging, but I was already there for him, wanton. For 17 years, I’d never known to run warm water on my rim, past the ring and into my body, over and over, and I envied him. Envied him for knowing so much. It proved what I’d told him that day, before I cryptically spilled my sexual tastes.

He took my weight when I sank against his body, pointing the water at varying degrees. Each position felt as monumental as the one and two and three that had preceded and I groaned. I wanted to hug his waist, to crush my nose to his chest and hold on, but that would mean I released myself where he sprayed. So I gripped apart my cheeks until I stomped into the puddles in the tub, wanting to cum, wanting to hide from him.

“Okay,” he said, sounding playful and pleased. He sprayed down our cocks. He wet my face and I spit out water and suffocated beneath his sudden, claiming, creamy kiss.

In our bed, he sucked and nipped my butt and the backs of my thighs and I was melted, I felt smaller, like a waif. My fists curled in the sheets. I stuffed them into my mouth when I heard the lube cap pop, then him greasing his longest part, greasing me.

“Elio?”

I frantically nodded and nodded and smashed my face in the bed when he hurt me once again, a perfect pain, just like last night. I was expanding. I was rooted to myself and to him and I wanted to always feel this bad and good, this _Oliver_.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in the fandom, as I’m just seeing the movie a couple months ago and am currently finishing the book. I haven’t been this moved by a couple’s story in some time and am excited to write more about them! Any Eliver recs?


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